


(mis)trust

by winterspirit13



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Good Brother Ben Hargreeves, Good Brother Luther Hargreeves, Hurt Klaus Hargreeves, Hurt/Comfort, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves Needs Help, Klaus Hargreeves Whump, Klaus' other powers are briefly mentioned but not dealt with when they happen, Sick Character, Sick Klaus Hargreeves, Sickfic, Team as Family, Whump, sick, stomach flu, things get better between them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-11 23:37:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20162020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterspirit13/pseuds/winterspirit13
Summary: Anonymous shouted: Can you do a sickfic where Klaus is very sick (stomach bug) or smthing and his siblings think he’s high, and he gets very emotional and just like “runs away”, but then he doesn’t come back and ends up getting more sick and just comes home but ends up passing out. idk what this is, just in the mood for some emotional klausKlaus is sick, but he can't express it to his siblings, and they all jump to the wrong conclusion. He leaves, but find as the weather takes a turn for the worst along with his health, he can't manage to find his way back, even with the encouragement of Ben.





	(mis)trust

Klaus stumbles around the house in a daze. His head feels fuzzy, and he hasn’t eaten in… he hasn’t eaten for a while. Ben would probably know. But Klaus couldn’t concentrate enough to get the words out to ask him. His throat was too sore to properly attempt it, anyways.

Staggering along the wall, Klaus had one mission: get water. His brain felt like it was _boiling _in his head, and Klaus figured that might not be the best thing for his brain to feel like – not that it was usually in a great state but, hey, he’s only human. (Who can talk to ghosts and come back from the dead an unknown amount, but still.)

He knew he must have a fever. He could feel the strange mix of chills running down his spine and the burning in his cheeks, and the way that he couldn’t tell the difference between the rest of the ghosts and Ben, or even a living person for that matter, is a dead giveaway. Ha. Dead.

Klaus giggles to himself. It wasn’t that funny, but maybe that was just part of the fever. He giggles a little more, for some reason, turning into a bit of a whimper as he realizes doing that hurts his chest. And his stomach. Klaus couldn’t think of something that didn’t hurt, honestly.

A hand grips his shoulder, steadying him. Blearily, Klaus stares up at the very-much-alive person, a fact that he can only deduce because there was no way in hell he had the power to make any ghost corporeal even if he wanted to. “Hm?” He manages.

“Jesus, dude, what’s wrong with you?” Klaus stared at his brother in a daze before putting the facts together. He had finally managed to make the long journey from his room to the kitchen (which was far too many stairs), and turns out, the rest of his family was enjoying a nice bit of dinner together.

“Diego?” Klaus stares at his brother blearily, leaning into the support of his hands. “What isn’t? But I feel kind of awful,” Klaus tries to explain. Somewhere behind him, Ben rolls his eyes, because Klaus, that’s not the way to explain the situation.

“You’re high?” Luther asks, standing up from the table. His voice is more of a question than an accusation, but Klaus can’t tell the difference. It doesn’t really feel much different.

Klaus sighs wistfully. “I wish. No, no I’m not, I-“ Klaus groans, “Fuck, I can’t think," He whines.

Ben is beside him, speaking softly. “Klaus, you need to say you’re sick. They’ll help,” he says. Klaus nods- which is the wrong moment to do so, because no one else can see Ben, so it just seems like he’d given up denying being high.

Allison is the one to break the tense silence that falls when Klaus nods, sighing in disappointment. “Really, Klaus? I thought you were better than this.” Her tone is icy, making Klaus’ throat close up with emotion. He opens his mouth to refute it, but words just won’t cooperate. Why would she say that?

Hadn’t he proven he was at least a little less useless, recently?

“You said you’d come to us. How could you do this? You told me you were trying to get better.” Vanya, sweet Vanya, her voice is soft and sweet and sad and Klaus can’t take it. He let her down. Maye he’s not sure how, but it’s clear he has, and it stings.

“No, no, that’s not it,” He tries to deny. His eyes flit frantically from one of his siblings to the next, finding no belief in his sobriety in any of them. They’re all against him.

“Klaus, _tell _them,” Ben’s voice is firm, almost upset and it’s just another nail in the coffin. Because he’s _trying _to and they won’t listen. He can’t figure out what to say and the room feels like it’s spinning and he just wants to get his water and lay down forever.

Five’s voice is next, and Klaus hears his biting tone, but can’t process the words fast enough to respond. Luther looms, standing and staring at him with the same disappointment that Reginald would, and it’s _too much._

Klaus feels his eyes start to sting, and that’s when he knows he needs to get away. He takes a step back, feeling Diego’s hand tighten on his shoulder, and he pushes it away. He shouldn’t have been able too- he’s not strong, and even less so with a who-knows how high fever. Diego should be able to overpower him easily.

But he’s thrown back anyways. Klaus can’t process why that is, but his siblings are stunned enough that they don’t try and stop him when he turns to leave. He hears Ben’s voice yell after him, and Klaus can’t stop from crying now.

Even Ben’s upset with him, but Klaus doesn’t know what he’s done. Why they won’t believe him, why they’re so disappointed.

Klaus wipes at his eyes furiously on his way out of the door, ignoring the strange looks he got on the street as he took unsteady steps as fast as he could manage away from the Academy. He’s used to weird looks on the street, invites them really, with the way he dresses and carries himself. Usually, he doesn’t mind, taking pride in the confusion of others, but today he just wants to disappear.

No one follows him.

Klaus isn’t sure how long he walks. It’s dark outside, as it was a cold fall evening, and it was starting to rain. Shivers violently wrack his slender frame.

“Klaus,” Ben said, for nearly the hundredth time. “Klaus, go back.”

“Go away, Ben,” he sniffs. Ben just rolls his eyes.

“Not much of an option even if I wanted to. At least sit down,” he tries to reason. Klaus stops, thinking about this.

It’s not like he’s going anywhere. He’s used to wandering around the streets feeling worse than this, but he’s so _tired_. His body aches, and his stomach clenches painfully every time he takes a step.

Sitting down wouldn’t be the worst idea.

Ben probably meant somewhere like a covered bus stop, or inside a near Starbucks, somewhere somewhat safe where he could ask for help. But Klaus wasn’t sure he’d make it that far. He stumbled against a wall of a building, and let himself slide down it to sit in the damp alleyway. He pressed his face against the grimy cement wall. It was cold, soothing to Klaus’ burning blotchy face.

“Gross,” Ben muttered. Klaus ignored him. He’s too busy curling in on himself as the discomfort in his stomach only increases a hot burning pain. He lets out a groan, nausea overtaking him.

“Klaus?” Ben’s voice comes louder, more concerned than before. Klaus can’t respond, though, because the next thing he knows the overwhelming pain was flooded with wretched gagging, and he jerks to his knees, heaving up what little food he had managed the past few days onto the pavement next to him.

His eyes water, and he feels panic run through him. He can’t breathe, it won’t stop. Tears run down his face from the strain of vomiting and the fear of it as well. Ben is talking, and he tries to focus on it, take himself out of the moment, as his body continued to rebel.

When his stomach finally calms, he spits out the bitter taste, and leans against the wall again, a sickly sheen of sweat covering him, slowly being washed away by the rain. Ben hovers close, expression distant and concerned.

Klaus hates when he gets like this. If Ben were alive, he’d be able to help, but he wasn’t so he didn’t know what to do. It makes Klaus feel guilty, and he doesn’t like feeling guilty.

“Klaus, try to get up. Let’s go home,” Ben encourages softly. Klaus nods. It seems like a good idea, and whatever he could do to take away that helpless look from his dead brother’s face, he would do. Or, he’ll try. An honest college effort and all that.

He pushes himself up on trembling legs, taking several shaky steps forward. When he makes it to the wall of the next building, leaning on it as he walks, he thinks he might actually make it. That hope was soon crushed, however, as the pain in his stomach returns.

Hurriedly he finds himself stumbling into the next alleyway, barely able to lean over before he thows up again.

He leans against the wall, trying to regain his breath before he has to bend over again. It feels like it goes on forever, choked sobs turning into retching as the cycle repeats until there’s nothing left for his stomach to expel.

Klaus isn’t sure how, but he finds himself on the ground again with little memory of getting there.

His head is fuzzy, and he can’t stop shaking. It’s cold, and the rain is only getting worse. Klaus’ eyes are glassy. “M’ sorry, Benny,” He manages. He should have listened to Ben from the beginning, should have been stronger, shouldn’t be such a disappointment.

Klaus can’t fix any of that now, so he just falls into unconsciousness with tears streaming down his flushed cheeks.

Klaus lays there, in fitful sleep for the rest of the night. If he would have woken in the morning, he might’ve heard the worried calls of his siblings, or the shouts as they find him. He was out cold, even as Luther scooped him up, carrying him to Diego’s car. He didn’t hear the relief and worry that this wasn’t just an OD.

He missed that. When Klaus finally did wake, he was in the car, head leaning gently against Vanya’s shoulder as they were all crammed in the car. Vanya’s voice is soft and soothing, even with the way Klaus’ head was pounding.

He slowly came to, his eyes blinking open, and he shifts against Vanya’s shoulder. “Hey, guys.” Klaus cringes at how rough and weak his voice sounds, but he can't make it any other way.

“Hey, Klaus. You’re going home,” Vanya speaks, her voice reassuring. Klaus sighs, finding himself relaxing at that.

His eyes search the car, and it should worry him, he thinks, that it takes several seconds for him to realize who he’s looking at. “Diego,” He mutters, once he’s figured it out. Maybe another one of them should get their drivers license, because as it is now, Diego’s the only one who (legally) could drive. Not that it stopped Five.

“Yup,” Diego nods. The motion makes Klaus feel dizzy. He closes his eyes.

“What happened?” Klaus remembers feeling angry, hurt, being cold, but he can’t make out any of the details. “What’s going on?” Why did he feel so awful?

“We made some shitty assumptions,” Diego admits. “You have a nasty fever, and w-we. We should have been there for you.” His voice breaks and slips into a stutter. Klaus can’t help the whine that escapes his lips; he doesn’t want anything to hurt Diego even if he couldn’t wrap his head around the way all of his words fit together.

“You’re fever’s spiking again, Vanya says, putting her hand to Klaus’ forehead which is slick with sweat. He leans into his sister’s cool touch gratefully, and before he can hear the worried conversation that sparks in the car, Klaus is asleep again.

The second time Klaus woke, the first thing he notices is how blissfully comfortable he is. Soft fluffy sheets, a mattress, not sleeping on cold, wet pavement: the whole shebang.

What he notices next is that his head still throbs painfully, aggravated by the voices of Number One and Number Two arguing. Classic Diego and Luther.

He coughs, eyes fluttering open. The arguing stops. “Klaus,” Diego breathes in relief. “You’re awake.”

“If you say so,” Klaus mutters, sleep still heavy in his voice. Diego glares at Luther, nodding his head towards Klaus. He looks embarrassed, and Klaus guesses that this time he lost the argument they were having.

Luther actually looks embarrassed. He steps over to Klaus, and sits stiffly in a chair that’s been pulled up next to his bed. He doesn’t recognize it – someone must have brought it into his room while he was out.

“Klaus, I’m.” Luther grimaces. “I’m sorry.” Although the words stick in One’s throat, Klaus can tell that he means them. Luther being genuine for once. Huh. Who would’ve guessed. “We- _I _was wrong, and I shouldn’t have thought the worst of you. But Klaus, you also need to _tell _someone when you’re in any sort of trouble, when you’re sick. You have to communicate.”

Diego looks pleased until the last bit, and slowly Klaus is putting together what their argument must have been. Klaus suddenly can’t find his voice, but he nods anyway. Luther wasn’t wrong. It was just hard.

“What Luther’s _trying _to say is that you’re not dealing with this shit alone, man. We’re family. A real one too, and when you feel like shit you can ask us for things,” says Diego forcefully.

If Klaus wasn’t getting choked up before, well shit, here he was. Blinking a bit of wetness from his eyes, he managed some control “Aw, guys, didn’t think you cared so much about me,” he teases.

Diego punches his arm, just soft enough so it doesn’t quite hurt. “Yeah, don’t stretch it that much,” he jokes right back, grin contagious even to Klaus who still is feeling rather shit.

He looks warmly over the room – little bits of evidence of his siblings spending time in there, and the supportive, if embarrassed looks of two of his brothers, to the proud look on the third’s face. “I you so,” Ben says. Because Ben always believed they cared, even when Klaus didn’t.

And to be fair, a lot of his life there was reason for the mistrust in Ben’s undying (ha) optimist streak. But now?

Well, they were pretty rusty at it, and clearly, there was a lot of work to be done. But even if they can all be dicks sometimes, Klaus can’t help but feel a swell of happiness and just a little pride. Because look at them. They’re getting better.

**Author's Note:**

> hhh this was so hard to write for some reason. I really enjoyed the prompt but adhd has me not able to focus on anything lmao. But I finally finished this! And binged read a bunch of other fics for this fandom, there's just so many talented creators!
> 
> Thank you all for reading! If you'd like, leave a Kudo, and comments truly make my day!
> 
> Get rest, take care, and take a break from reading if it's late <3


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